


Road To NY

by bnjblrb



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28568685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bnjblrb/pseuds/bnjblrb
Summary: The losers go on a road trip to New York as their final huzzah before college.
Relationships: Benverly, Billverly, Reddie - Relationship, Stanverly - Relationship, Stenbrough - Relationship, bike - Relationship, kaspbrough - Relationship, stanlon
Kudos: 2





	Road To NY

Eddie Kaspbrak had every fucking right to be terrified. Every single right. He was about to ask his mother- the pinnacle of a helicopter parent- if he could go on a camping trip with his friends. One with no supervisors, no parents, and a stupid plan. It had started then the losers were sleeping at Beverly’s aunts house.  
They were sitting in front of a TV, Richie and Eddie sharing a beanbag chair, Bev leaning against Stan, who’s against the wall. Mike, teaching Bill how to make friendship bracelets, and Ben, sitting next to Bev, watching her smoke. The sun was low, and golden beams of light shone their way through the dust covered windows. The cheap fabric drapes were held apart by pushpins. Bev took a long drag off her cigarette, blowing the smoke towards Richie, who waved the air in front of his face in an attempt to get the smoke away from Eddie, who hated the smell of cigarettes. Eddie laughed a bit, and reminded Richie quietly that he didn’t mind too much anymore. They were going to college, they’d have to get used to the smell. Richie nodded, reaching out and grabbing a cigarette from Bev, lighting it and blowing the smoke away from Eddie nonetheless. The mood was tired. Musty. They sat in a natural and comfortable silence, and the only noise was the sound of Ren and Stimpy screaming. Eddie laughed a little at the TV, and Richie’s heart exploded. Other than that, it was quiet. Fuck, Richie hated the quiet.  
“We should do something dumb!” He announced, his hair bouncing as he perked up with a smile. “We could murder someone. Like in the movies. Then we could run away and start a new life-” He was interrupted by Eddie groaning.  
“Shut up! It’s Ren and Stimpy! I love this show,” he said bitterly to Richie, looking back at the TV. He watched closely, a childlike wonder in his eyes. Bev felt bad for the kid. He never had any real freedom. He had a small variety of shows he was allowed to watch, and Ren and Stimpy was not one of them, which was why he would watch shows whenever he got the chance at his friends’ house.  
Bev hummed, smiling. Fuck, her friends really are just like children. “Murder could be fun,” she offered sarcastically, laughing as Ben immediately protested and started going on a rant about morals. “Benny- Ben- I’m kidding,” she chuckled, putting a hand on Ben’s shoulder. His frown immediately faded away, and was replaced with a smile as he sighed a soft ‘oh’.  
Bill hummed. “It’s our gap year. We don’t have school, and still, we aren’t doing anything reckless like causing trouble or running around town. Isn’t that unlike us?” He asked, holding up his friendship bracelet and turning to Mike. “How’s this?”  
Mike gave a wide, fake smile. Bill was trying really hard. Even if it was a knotty, tangled mess. “Great, Bill.” Bill grinned, handing it to Mike and holding his wrist out. Mike tied it around his wrist, nodding. “There.”  
Bev furrowed her brows. Running around town. That could work, but they’d have to expand their area. “We could go camping,” she offered. “And just go on a road trip and drive around places,” she said. She quickly stood up, digging through her bedside drawer past cigarettes, a lighter, and a crumpled postcard that was barely readable. She got another piece of paper, which was folded a bit nicer, and sat back down, spreading it out smooth. “I found this the other day while I was cleaning my room. It’s one of the bucket lists we all made when we were in middle school.” She looked down her list, looking for a potential location. Richie pointed at the paper quickly.  
“Go to New York,” he read aloud, smiling. “Damn, Marsh, you trying to star in a Broadway musical?” Eddie peeled his eyes away from the screen, looking back at the paper and turning the TV down. “Hey, Eds,” Richie hummed offhandedly, reading down the list.  
Suddenly, Eddie started laughing, covering his mouth with his hand. All the other losers looked over at him, confused and slightly amused. “Punch Bowers!” He wailed happily, pointing at the list and laying back, putting a hand on his stomach and laughing hard. Richie watched him with a grin and started laughing too, air being pulled from his lungs by the contagiousness of Eddie’s laugh. Eddie was on his back next to him, grinning and giggling. He wiped his eyes, and Richie noticed there were tears.  
Bev grinned and rolled her eyes, giving a small laugh and looking at the list. “I think we should try and check our lists off.” Eddie’s laughing calmed down, and he sat up.  
“What?” Eddie asked, an unsure smile settling on his face. “Bev, I don’t even know if I still have that list, and if we leave, my mom would kill me,” he said, furrowing his brows. Bev hummed, grabbing a piece of scrap paper and rewriting the list with a sharpie. A bit of the ash from her cigarette fell onto her hand as she was writing, and she quickly blew it off, wincing a bit. She finished the list, setting it down.  
“There.” She hummed, giving a short nod. “We should find our lists, and if we can’t, we should write new ones.” Bev stood up, pulling a jacket on. “Come on, we’re going.”  
Eddie’s eyes widened. “Where?” He asked quickly. “We can’t go anywhere that my mom doesn’t know about, Bev.” She groaned, crossing her arms.  
“You’re eighteen. You’re legally an adult,” she insisted, giving everyone a look. Stan, Mike, Bill and Ben all stood up, leaving just Richie and Eddie. Richie didn’t want to leave Eddie, so he stayed sitting. Eddie stood up, and Richie followed closely. “Good. I just want food. Let’s go to the pharmacy, they have really good chips.”  
Stan chuckled and tugged on the collar of his shirt, trying to straighten it a little. Stan had only recently been diagnosed with OCD, and it was a fucking nightmare. Mostly because all of his friends assumed it made him a neat freak. It was the nineties. Of course nobody was properly educated. As they walked out of the house, he flicked the lightswitch eleven times. Stanley Uris. Eleven letters.  
Mike sighed. “Guys, I don’t know if running away and checking off a bucket list from 7th grade is the best idea,” he said softly, worried that he might hurt the other’s feelings. Bill looked over at Mike, shrugging and smiling.  
“Does it matter how good an idea it is? We’re trying to have fun.”  
And somehow, that was all it took to convince the group. Bill had a natural leader complex, and where he and Bev went, everybody followed. If Bill and Bev thought it was a good idea, everyone did. God. Eddie didn’t have a fucking choice, did he? He really couldn’t get out of it. Especially if everyone else was going. And if Richie was going. It was the break before college. Hell, he didn’t even know if he’d see any of his friends ever again. He was moving to California. “Fuck it.” Eddie announced, sitting up straight and puffing his chest out a bit. “Let’s go to New York! There’s nothing to lose. Plus, the sooner we get out of Derry, the better, right?” He said, smiling. He was still unsure, but he hid that in a confident facade. He looked around until he got a mixture of hesitant nods and enthusiastic grins. The latter mostly came from the more reckless ones in the group. Especially Richie. 

By some goddamn miracle, Eddie got Sonia to say yes. The other losers didn’t need to ask their parents, probably because their parents weren’t the kind of parents to make them live with them after graduation. Eddie walked around his room quickly, folding clothes and putting them in his suitcase. He sighed softly. Fuck, his suitcase is already full. He went through his notebook. All he needed was his meds and inhaler. He walked downstairs, getting them from the kitchen counter and looking up at his mom, who was fast asleep in her chair. Probably for the best. She’d likely have a fit if she was awake while Eddie left. There was the honk of a horn in the parking lot, and Eddie flinched. Fuck, he was spacing out again. He grabbed his suitcase and walked outside, looking at Richie’s van, which looked exactly as you’d expect. It had a bad paint job, and stickers all over the back of the car. Mostly band stickers. Nirvana, Aerosmith, Green Day, Beastie boys, and Led Zeppelin. Richie opened the door of the passenger’s seat with a grin.  
“Welcome to the Shaggin’ wagon, Eds!” He hummed, poking his head out the driver’s seat window. Eddie huffed, getting in after putting his suitcase in the back. “You’re the first one I picked up besides Stan, but he stayed the night at the Tozier residence.” He pointed back at Stan, who was sitting in the very back, reading a book with headphones on, connected to his discman. “Next up, Mister Denbrough.” He looked over at the list that Eddie had taken out of his pocket. “Is that your bucket list?” He asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.  
Eddie gave a short nod. “Yeah,” he said, looking at it. “I was really ambitious when I was in middle school,” he smiled. “Go to Paris. Watch an R-Rated movie. Jesus, go skydiving?” He asked incredulously, holding the list closer to his face. “This looks like your handwriting, Rich.” Richie smiled, glancing over.  
“I bet I convinced you to write it,” Richie nodded. Eddie chewed his lip. He had. They were having a sleepover and working on their lists, and Richie told him to take more risks, so he wrote skydiving. Richie pulled up to Bill’s house, where Bill was already sitting on the porch, holding a backpack and reading a comic book. When he heard the car, he perked up with a smile. Richie rolled down the window and poked his head out. “Denbrough! C’mon! Get in! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”  
Bill got into the car, sitting next to Stan. “Hey, Stanny,” Bill said with a smile. Stan’s eyes widened, and he took his headphones off, quickly saying a hello. Fuck, he wasn’t paying attention. He closed his book and Bill reached out. “What are you reading?” Stan handed him the book as Bill buckled.  
“It’s this book about this time traveller. He tries to stop the JFK assasination,” Stan explained, watching Bill turn the book around and start to read the back. “He’s kind of an asshole. His wife left him,” he hummed. Bill nodded, smiling and scanning the synopsis. Stan was immediately worried by Bill’s silence. “It’s kind of dumb,” he added, and Bill looked up at him with a confused smile.  
“No, it looks really interesting. I’ve read some of his books before. Only the really popular ones,” Bill said, pointing to the author’s name. “Stephen King. His books are, like, a million pages long. And kind of gross. But some of his descriptions are really strong.” Stan chuckled softly, and they began discussing the author’s works.  
Richie looked back at them before driving to Bev’s, then Ben’s, and then Mike’s. It was soon that they’d all been picked up, and driving past the rusty, green, Welcome To Derry sign. It said that on both sides, and resulted in tourists getting lost easily. Eddie leaned back in his seat, taking his walkman and grabbing a mixtape. Richie raised his eyebrows. “Hey, wait, I burned a CD for this.” He quickly grabbed a CD, putting it in the CD player of his car and pressing play. He grinned wide as the first song started playing, and Eddie rolled his eyes. “What? What’s wrong with Life Is A Highway?” He teased Eddie, laughing and singing along dramatically.  
Bev, in the seat behind them, smiled and started singing too, holding her cigarette in the air and nodding her head to the beat, while Bill did an air guitar solo. Stan laughed, hearty and genuine. It was rare that a laugh like that came from Stan, but when it did, everyone brightened. Ben mimed playing keyboard, and Richie sang loudly, doing a terrible amazing impression of Tom Cochrane. Eddie bounced in his seat a bit, smiling. Only now had it struck him that he was leaving. He was really leaving Derry with his friends. He was leaving Derry with Richie.  
“What?” Richie said, snapping Eddie out of his trance. Eddie looked over at Richie quickly, nearly getting whiplash. He had startled him, which was odd. Richie didn’t have a startling voice. It had dropped some, and was gravelly. Not in the bad way, of course. But in the way that it almost felt smooth. It was so fucking unique that it couldn’t be described. But to Eddie, it was Richie’s voice, and Richie’s voice was basically home.  
“What what?” Eddie asked, raising an eyebrow. A challenge. Richie knew a challenge. Especially when it was coming from Eddie. “I was just thinking. We’re leaving Derry. Isn’t it weird?” He asked, a smile ghosting his lips.  
Richies eyes widened and he pressed his foot down on the break suddenly, the car halting to a stop. “Shit! I forgot!” He grinned, quickly getting out of the car as the others broke off into confused murmurs. Eddie was the only one watching Richie, so he decided to get out. He watched Richie go to the trunk of the beat up truck, and grab a bag. Richie looked up and noticed Eddie watching. He quickly reached into the bag, pulling out a couple of knives. Eddie’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Richie spoke up. “To carve our names into the sign. Right?” He asked, but it wasn’t really a question. He was already walking over to the sign as the others got out of the car. “We’ll leave our mark on this shitty town.”  
Eddie smiled softly, reaching out and taking the knife from Richie. In a way, it was sentimental. Actually, it wasn’t. He just liked the idea of the assholes from Derry seeing the losers club had carved their name into their sign. A shitty sign for a shitty town. He opened the knife and stared at it, chewing his lip. Meanwhile, Stan took a knife from Richie, and quickly began carving his name in straight, neat letters. He pushed down a bit too hard on the handle when he was carving the N, so it was too long. “God damnit,” Stan murmured under his breath, looking over to the hand next to his- Mike’s. “How’s it going for you?”  
Mike chewed his lip. He never liked knives too much. He carved his names in tiny letters, in the bottom right. “I know how to use them. My grandpa taught me to widdle,” Mike shrugged softly, handing the knife over to Bill, who took it and wrote his name smack-dab in the middle. “I don’t like knives that much, that’s all.” He looked over at Bill, watching him as he carved the old wood. He always admired Bill’s handwriting. There was something about it that felt so natural. Then, he looked at Bill, who was focused hard, his tongue stuck out between his teeth, his eyes narrowed, and his brows furrowed. Mike felt his face go warm and looked away, looking at Stan, who was- strangely enough- also looking at Bill and blushing. “Uh-” he cleared his throat. “I’m going back to the car,” he said quickly, shrugging his shoulders up and looking down as he scuttled back to the van.

“I don’t fucking know how much bug spray we’ll need, okay? I just want to be sure!” Eddie hissed, grabbing half a dozen cans of bug spray as Richie laughed. Eddie tried not to focus on how Richie’s eyes squinted up when he laughed just hard enough, or the way his laugh seemed to shake the room, or the way he tilted his head up and shrugged his shoulders. Eddie shook his head, mad at himself for blushing. “It isn’t funny. If you want a billion bug bites, though, then be my motherfucking guest.”  
Bev walked up to the counter, leaning against it with a charming smile directed towards the boy standing awkwardly. “Hi,” she hummed, looking at his name tag. “...Charlie. Okay, Charlie, can you get me that pack of Marlboros right behind you?” Charlie watched her in amazement, surprised by the fact that anyone’s hair could naturally be that red. He turned around, getting the cigarettes as Bev held out an ID. “Thanks, Charlie, you’re a lifesaver,” she winked, paying him in exact change. Beverly always seemed to have change. It confused the other losers immensely. As she walked away, she looked over at Bill, who was standing by the magazines, taking an edition of LIFE magazine and flipping through it. Stan was at the chips isle, looking at a brightly colored assortment of plastic and equally unhealthy choices, before finally deciding on Fritos.  
Richie held his hands out to Eddie, raising an eyebrow. “At least let me help carry them?” He offered, frowning when Eddie shook his head, insisting he could do it himself. Beverly smiled as she watched them. They may be complete and total morons, but shit, she really loved her friends. Richie noticed Bev watching and smiled. “Hey, Marsh! Enjoying the view?” He joked, flashing a wide, toothy grin, and winking at her.  
Beverly grinned and started walking towards the two. “You know it, Tozier,” she said with a chuckle. “Here, Eddie, let me help with those,” she said, taking the bug spray. “You think we need this much? It’s only three nights. Two bottles should last us.” Eddie chewed his lip before nodding. He trusted Beverly’s judgement, but still watched closely as she put the bug spray down. Richie looked over and noticed Stan, walking off to talk to him. Bev noticed how Eddie’s eyes lingered on Richie when he walked away, and how he seemed to be in his own little world. “You okay?” She asked gently. Eddie’s eyes snapped back to her, and he gave a quick nod.  
“I’m fine,” he responded, grabbing a tube of hand sanitizer. “Are you okay? You seem weird.” He was deflecting, Bev knew that much. No matter what, he always turned things around to get the topic off himself. For as loud as he was, he didn’t indulge in personal drama. “Did something happen? Did you and Ben get in a fight?” He asked defensively, venom behind his words.  
Bev shook her head, her copper hair bouncing in its ponytail. “No,” Bev shrugged, grabbing a bag of chips and walking towards the back of the store. Eddie huffed, turning away. He was glad the conversation was over. It’s not like he wanted to talk about his fears. Or how he worried his mom might find him and beg him to come home. Call him her “Eddie-Bear”. He hated that nickname with a fiery passion. Every time he heard someone call him that, he grew incredibly uncomfortable as he remembered screaming at his mom about Gazebos. He meant placebos, sure, but he had misheard Gretta Keene. Besides, it was hard to hear her with the giant wad of bubblegum she was chewing. He remembered she always smelled like cheap bubblegum and pencil shavings. Bitch. “Eddie!” Bev half shouted, the words echoing. “Come on, we’re paying.”  
Eddie sighed softly and rushed up to the counter, grabbing a pack of bubblegum and setting it down with everything else. Before he could pay, Richie spoke up. “I’ve got it. I’ve been saving up money.” Eddie huffed, annoyed. Why the fuck did Richie try to beat him at being nice? It was like he felt an obligation to.  
Once Richie had paid, they all headed back to the car. It was Eddie’s turn to drive. Mike had made a chart. It was just two pieces of cardstock paper and a paperclip. All of their names were written down, along with the hours and dates of their drive. They all had to drive for roughly an hour each, and that didn’t include breaks for food, using the toilet, etcetera. For something that was supposed to feel spontaneous, this felt very planned out.  
Eddie got into the driver’s seat, adjusting a bit before buckling and turning the radio on. He flipped through the channels until he heard Tears for Fears playing. When he heard whines of protest against the music, he turned to Richie. “I swear to god, if I have to listen to another Beastie Boys song, I’m going to go fucking ballistic. I’m driving. I get to pick the music,” he said sharply to Richie, raising his eyebrows. Richie attempted to hold back a loud laugh, which resulted in a trumpet sort of noise and a snort as he began cackling uncontrollably. Eddie almost ran into a stop sign, and couldn’t help but giggle a bit when he watched Richie laugh, his skin warm and the butterflies in his stomach in a frenzy. “God damnit, you’re an asshole,” he said, looking forward and starting to drive.

They simultaneously came upon the decision to stop at a motel later that night, getting three rooms. Two in each, and one with an extra person. Everybody could pick their partners, and it would be nice and easy. They’d likely get breakfast at the motel in the morning and get back on the road. They would arrive in New York in just a few days. Eddie parked the car, sighing in relief as he relaxed his back, releasing tension he had upheld throughout the entire drive, thanks to his anxiety about stupid drivers. There was a collective sigh of relief, except for from Bev and Mike, who were both asleep. Stan went to wake the both of them up, and they grabbed their backpacks, going into the motel.  
It smelled musty. Made Eddie’s allergies flare up like crazy. His nose itched, and every minute or so, he found himself sneezing softly, his eyes reddening. They waited at the counter, Richie ringing the service bell relentlessly until an older woman came to the desk, leaning against it. “How many rooms?” She asked, clearly irked by Richie’s frivolous behaviour. Once she got an answer of three, she turned around, digging through an old box that was molding just a bit. Eddie looked down at the carpet, raising his eyebrows. It looked like the carpet from The Shining. Bill loved The Shining. “Here you go,” she said, handing the keys to Richie.  
“Bill,” Eddie hissed, nudging him softly with his elbow and raising his eyebrows. “Look. The carpet.” Bill looked down at the carpet, narrowing his eyes and focusing on a strange blue stain. “No, the pattern. It’s like The Shining,” Eddie explained, gesturing to the ground. Bills eyes brightened, and a grin made its way to his face.  
“Oh, yeah, that’s cool,” he said, trying to keep his calm. Mentally? He was losing his goddamn mind. He wondered who in particular of the staff liked The Shining. Or maybe it was by some strange coincidence that this just happened to be the pattern. And that his favorite movie of all time would be referenced in a cheap motel up in north Maine. Bill felt another bony elbow to his side, and looked up to see that Eddie was trying to get him to follow the rest of the losers, who were making their ways to their room. “Who are you rooming with?” Bill asked Eddie, who just gave a shrug.  
“I was hoping I could room with you. I’ve known you forever, I don’t think it’d be weird,” he said, looking straight ahead and watching Richie walk. “Why do his legs move like that? It’s like he’s walking on stilts. He’s a fucking weirdo,” Eddie said, absolutely no malice in his voice. “And his hair looks like a mop.” Eddie loved Richie's hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Hihi! Thanks for reading :) New chapter's coming soon


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